


Stay With Me

by GhostLove



Category: Kuroshitsuji (2014), Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gender Identity, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Rejection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21927871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostLove/pseuds/GhostLove
Summary: Grell has been having a bad day, no... the issue is bigger than that. Either way, she doesn't want to be alone tonight. Running low on viable options, the reaper is soon inspired to seek out a certain someone. Will that person give her the kind of comfort she needs? Is it even possible? You can't know without trying.
Relationships: Grell Sutcliff/Undertaker
Comments: 17
Kudos: 102
Collections: Anime FF





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> There are a few things I feel I should mention before we get started. Firstly:I wrote this fic for a few different reasons, one of which includes the fact that this pairing was my first ever OTP - and as such I wanted to write something for them. Even with the direction the manga took, I still love this coupling dearly - and what sparked that love was the first anime adaptation (though it was very flawed). Because the first anime and the manga (and the newest anime adaptations) are so different, I decided to mix the events of the two within this fic to some extent. I feel that the manga gives more context to both Grell and Undertaker, while the anime showed them interacting more frequently and amicably. 
> 
> Another thing you might notice right off the bat is that I use she/her pronouns for Grell. This is due to the fact that Grell consistently uses these pronouns for herself - even if other characters do not acknowledge that about her. One great thing about writing this fic now is that I have a better comprehension of trans issues - whereas when I first began writing for these two I had no clue about A lot of things.
> 
> That being said: I do not claim to know the trans experience. I do not experience dysphoria myself and cannot know what it's like to be trans. I am still learning each and every day, and am open to corrections/suggestions others might offer in order to be more respectful and accurate. While I was writing I tried my best to stick only to things that I knew to be true - this knowledge was based off of research, as well as listening to the trans people in my life. As such, I can always improve.
> 
> A point I included in the fic, which I stand by, is that multiple genders have existed all throughout history - and all throughout history there have been people to serve as allies/respect those identities. Just because the majority might not have respected certain human rights doesn't mean no one did. Based off of Undertaker's long life and the fact that he has shown instances in which he did not outwardly misgender Grell (especially compared to other characters), I used that as a springboard to make my assertion that his character would understand and be respectful of Grell's identity. While I know the original author comes form a very different world view and understanding of LGBTQIA+ issues, I am taking the liberty of reinterpreting her characters based on different contexts. I do not think that my interpretation is too far-fetched, and I hope that any readers that come across this won't either.
> 
> I also did not want to continuously repeat harm caused by misgendering. This was a fic I wrote when I was hurting and I didn't want more of that. I wanted a straightforward attempt at comfort that, while acknowledging harm in order to address it (as well as character flaws), did not create new harm. I saw characters that I recognized as being able to respect and comfort one another, and I went from there.
> 
> That being said, these characters are unmistakably flawed. I acknowledge that within the writing, and so the progression of the fic has its bumps. I wanted to stay true to my instincts, and was able to air some of my own complaints as a result. I hope in the end people will still find the fic cathartic - and that it will serve its purpose as an attempt at comforting hurt. I consider Undertaker to be a very flawed character who, nevertheless, looks to alleviate suffering for reasons and contexts too numerous to get into here - while Grell is someone who has a lot unacknowledged hurt, even if she isn't often serious. That being said, this isn't going to be a perfect relationship and personalities will clash. Our demons don't often play well with others after all. I hope you will still enjoy the fic and find the end result satisfying.
> 
> Thank you for sticking through, and please let me know if you have suggestions on how to make my portrayal of issues better. Much love.

Heels clicked on cobblestone streets as Grell made her way towards her destination. Her feet ached, the long-days work making the centre of her back radiate pain outwards to the rest of her extremities. She was tired, but what’s more – she was extremely upset.

Grell stopped her brisk pace in order to collect herself, her gloved fingers running through her red tresses stressfully. She almost felt like breaking down right there. She sniffed audibly before something small and wet plopped against her cheek, startling her. And then it began – the downpour.

Grell let out a shriek and huddled under the lip of a darkened building, hugging her slender form tightly. It felt like the temperature had just dropped about five degrees, prompting her to begin shivering. As she stood by herself at the shop’s front stoop, she could feel tears collecting in the corners of her eyes.

This day was the absolute worst.

Grell sniffled pitifully as warm tears streamed down her cheeks. She cursed at herself before pushing her glasses up and beginning to angrily wipe at her eyes. She didn’t want her makeup to run; god only knows who she would encounter on her way home. She wouldn’t allow herself to look like a mess.

As unlikely as that scenario was - that was just the kind of day it had been. Anything that could have gone wrong, did - and the daily struggles she faced in dealing with people who didn’t understand her had only compounded on top of everything else. She was done.

The redhead finally stopped her tears and set her frames back into place, turning herself around abruptly to try and find a reflective surface. Luckily enough, the darkened shop she had stopped in front of had a large glass window - allowing her to check her appearance.

Grell bent forward and began fixing herself up in the impromptu mirror, rubbing at her lower eyelids to clear away any black smudges. She then began fixing her red tresses so that the cold and damp didn’t weigh them down. She slowly stopped fussing as her eyes moved to her trembling body. All at once she was reminded of the searing words that she had faced that day… no… that she had faced her entire existence. Whether they be about her identity or about her mess-ups, Grell could feel every harsh remark linger deep within her chest.

Biting her lip, Grell barely noticed the taste of blood as she forced back the wave of emotion quickly overcoming her.

God, she didn’t want to go back to her empty place tonight. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts.

But… who would possibly accept her company?

More pain ripped through Grell’s chest as the years of rejection came rushing back all at once. Although she put on a confident front - she was keenly aware of every shove, look of disgust, unwanted remark and biting insult thrown her way. Lapping at her lower lip, Grell went over her situation wearily.

She was cold, hungry, tired, sore, lonely, and – as of right now – far from home. Although she knew Ronald would be more than happy to be there as her friend, she also knew that he had made other plans for the evening – ones that she knew better than to intrude on.

William was… William. Although they had been through a lot together (and despite the fact the she often found his calculated demeanor quite riveting), Grell was keenly aware that his coldness was not something she needed right this moment. Although she felt close to him in so many ways, she knew he wouldn’t be able to give her that reciprocated feeling of warmth and acceptance she was craving.

That sentiment went double for Sebastian.

Not only was he a good distance away, but Grell knew she could not take an extra dose of contempt right now. She couldn’t expect any sort of hospitality from the Phantomhive manor, especially not from the demon butler himself. They were natural enemies after all – and while that made the prospect of them being together exciting, Grell currently needed something more stable to keep her on her feet. After all, with how she was feeling right now she earnestly feared that she would soon be swept up in a current of her own despair.

Hugging herself tighter, Grell focused on her face in the shop’s reflection – an idea striking suddenly. Her green orbs ran over the front of the building, the woman recognizing the street she was on in an instant.

_He_ was a relatively short distance away.

Grell shivered. Although their interactions had been… mostly amicable – Grell also felt that she didn’t know the man well enough to determine if he could provide her the kind of company she needed. Thinking on it more, though, Grell soon realized that she was coming to enjoy the idea more and more.

“All right, if it doesn’t work out, I can always take myself out to dinner” Grell decided finally, announcing her plan to the silent street. Fixing herself up one final time, Grell took off towards her new destination – her eagerness allowing her to forget her cold and pain momentarily.

As she ran down the streets, the redhead’s mind whirred with self-assured thoughts. Grell was good at talking herself up… most of the time.

_Of course he’ll be happy to see me! In that dreary old place, who wouldn’t? Why I bet he’s just beside himself all day every day with no one to talk to… except maybe himself and… am I making a huge mistake going there, actually? God I just don’t want to be alone. I can’t stand it-_

Grell let out a startled cry as she felt her body pitch downward, her ankle having given out when her heel met a wet cobblestone sidelong. It was honestly a miracle she hadn’t already slipped on the slick street - the redhead having been rushing to get out of the downpour. Carelessness and her trademark clumsiness had been her undoing, yet again.

“Ouch!” Grell whined audibly, sitting on her butt in the wet street. When she had fallen, the redhead had felt her ankle roll completely. Grell rubbed her backside as she continued to fuss, feeling herself becoming more drenched by the moment. Despite wanting to get up and continue on, the shock of the fall had pushed Grell’s heart up into her throat – prompting the redhead to sit dazedly in the street while she collected herself.

Whether due to her mental state, or the prowess with which the man snuck up on her - Grell failed to notice the shadowy figure fast approaching her from the side. 

“Oh my, oh my. Are you ok, miss?” came a familiar purr-like voice, prompting Grell to lift her head. Standing above her was the very man she had been rushing to see – the Undertaker.

“Oh… It’s you…” she murmured, almost awe-struck at the happenstance. Undertaker’s usual Cheshire-like grin was fixed in place as he extended his hand towards Grell, his long fingernails glinting in the glow of the dim streetlamps.

“Ah, it’s good to see you again m’dear” Undertaker retorted, responding with warm familiarity as he continued to hold out for the redhead. Grell looked at his hand before she felt her face grow hot, a feeling of mortified realization coming over her.

_He saw me fall, right on my butt..._

“I… I’m fine!” Grell nearly spat as she felt tears of embarrassment gathering in her eyes. After everything that had already happened that day, this was the proverbial cherry on top of the whole rancid cake.

She began to hurriedly get up before she noticed the man’s outstretched hand once again. She paused a moment as warmth spread throughout her chest. Such a little act of kindness had her weary, downtrodden mind practically spinning with joy. It seemed she had made a good decision rushing here after all.

“Thank you…” she stated, kinder this time. As soon as he had a grip on her, Undertaker pulled Grell swiftly to her feet. Grell let out a little cry of surprise at the quickness – her body falling forward. Undertaker placed a hand on the small of her back in response, steadying her against his chest.

“My my, you’re quite accident-prone, aren’t you?” the man teased as he held her against him, a gleeful chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. Grell’s eyes widened, a silent moment of shock passing before she snapped:

“What do you think you’re doing?! Grabbing a lady like that… are you a barbarian?!”

Grell was seething as she pushed herself back a bit, the redhead especially peeved at his teasing. She felt her ankle roll again and let out a reverberating cry, almost falling again – that is, had it not been for the surprisingly strong arms around her. Grell blushed into the man’s shoulder as the Undertaker chuckled, keeping her aloft with ease.

“Now now, there’s no need to be like that. It seems you’ve hurt yourself more than you realize…”

Undertaker suddenly bent forward a bit, as if the gesture would help him examine the redhead’s ankle any better. Grell felt her heart in her throat again as they pressed closer together, adrenaline rushing through her body at the position they were in.

_This situation isn’t exactly ideal, but boy am I starting to enjoy it..._

Grell fully acknowledged the guilty pleasure she was experiencing, the redhead simply happy that she could be in close proximity to someone else without being shoved away or berated. She pushed her thoughts aside, however, once she realized that she couldn’t put any weight on her ankle. It seemed, just like the Undertaker had said, that she had hurt it more than she first thought. Although she was a reaper, and although reapers healed quickly – she could tell that it would take some hours before she recovered.

“I… I don’t think I can walk.” Grell stuttered, confirming the elder man’s suspicions as she gripped his robes. Then, another thought struck her.

_God, I must look like a proper mess right about now._

Grell feebly used her free hand to fuss with her face and hair - hoping that, against all odds, she didn’t look like some sort of horrid creature drug up from the Thames. Undertaker chuckled again, seemingly amused by her primping as he stated bluntly:

“Then it appears you’re in need of some help, young one…”

Before Grell could react properly, she felt her legs being scooped out from under her - Undertaker making a soft sound of effort as he carried her bridal-style. Grell grabbed around his neck in alarm, feeling her stomach doing flips as she remained securely in the other’s arms. She had often hoped to be held like this by men other than Undertaker, yet in the moment she couldn’t think of a better person for the job.

“I’ve got you” the elder promised, noticing the alarm in how she clung to him. Grell slightly loosened her grip, but not by much. She felt anger rise in her chest once more as she demanded:

“Wh-What are you thinking? You could have warned me…”

The elder grinned broadly, beginning to walk with the redhead in his arms. He took a moment before he responded:

“My apologies - if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking you inside. I’m sure you’d rather wait out your injury in a warm shop instead of out in the cold streets”

At the mention of the shop, Grell took a look at her surroundings. They were still a good few blocks away from the Undertaker’s building. With curiosity pulling at her mind, Grell ventured to ask:

“I never see you outside of that drab old place, what prompted you to be all the way out here on such a dreadful evening?”

Undertaker seemed to drop his smile for a moment, a fainter – almost forced grin taking its place. He paused briefly before he offered thoughtfully:

“I suppose… I just felt like taking a stroll…”

Grell fell silent as the man continued carrying her, her eyes on his face – or at least, what she could see of it. As usual, his long bangs hid the majority of his features. Despite that, water ran down his cheeks in rivulets - dripping off his pointed chin in a way that almost resembled tears. Grell felt her chest constrict at the very image, his response only adding to the unspecified unease she was experiencing. She couldn’t pretend to know just what about him was making her feel so… perturbed. She pushed the feeling aside forcefully once the strange man began to whistle cheerfully, the sound bouncing off the empty streets as they continued on.

Undertaker finally reached his shop and jimmied the door open – the elder reaper managing to balance Grell in one arm while he used his free hand to get inside. Once he stepped over the threshold, he placed Grell down on the nearest coffin – parting from her finally. The redhead let her arms slide from his neck, her eyes trying to meet his in vain. God knew how much she missed seeing those gorgeous eyes of his. One glance was enough to hook her for life.

“I’ll be back dear; I’m going to grab some tea and supplies. Would you like something to munch on as well?”

Before Grell could answer, her stomach let out a clear and angry growl. Blushing, Grell watched as the Undertaker smiled knowingly – the man stripping off his wet outer-robes and hat before he stepped towards the back of the shop.

“I’ll take that as a yes, hold tight m’dear”

Grell sat quietly on her perch, slowly realizing that she was grinning like a fool. She hadn’t expected such a nice view of the elder in his high-collard shirt and pants, but she wasn’t about to complain now. She pushed the smile away when her thoughts returned to her appearance, prompting her to look around the room for any sort of reflective surface. Unfortunately, her only salvation was a wall-mounted mirror located halfway across the room.

Perfect.

She sighed and soon realized that she was shivering without the other’s body heat, her pointed teeth beginning to chatter loudly. Attempting to suppress the spasms – Grell hugged herself tightly and brought her knees together.

It was then that she felt something heavy slide onto her shoulders. Grell couldn’t help but jump slightly before she looked behind her, alarm coursing through her body. Somehow, the Undertaker had walked up soundlessly and placed a wool blanket on her shoulders - a tray of tea and other goodies sitting on the coffin adjacent to them. How he had placed the tray down - not to mention walked in his heeled boots towards her - without a single noise, Grell would never know.

“I didn’t mean to startle you” the Undertaker stated sincerely, prompting Grell to let out a long sigh of relief and annoyance. The redhead suddenly blinked as the man crouched before her, holding out a beaker full of tea. Grell wasn’t sure why he had put himself in that position, but soon brushed it off as being due to his odd nature. The woman visibly frowned at the container he had chosen, not wanting to know if he previously used the glass container for his grim work. Nevertheless, she graciously took the tea into her gloved hands – feeling the warmth of the liquid through the garments. She muttered a gentle sign of thanks as she took a sip.

It was pleasantly sweet.

The elder rested his chin on his hand as he stared up at her from his place on the floor, his usual smile fitted in place. The redhead felt herself becoming flustered, asking snippily:

“What? What are you staring at?!”

She then recalled the rain and her potentially runny makeup, prompting her to bring her hands to her face in clear distress. The elder let out a light peal of laughter, clearly knowing what she was doing as he waved his hand dismissively.

“You look just fine m’dear. You certainly seem to like fussing over yourself a lot”

Grell felt her cheeks puff up indignantly as she turned her face to the side – huffing as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

“A lady always has to look her best! I am no exception” she blurted, her eyes slowly trailing back to the man below her. Undertaker seemed thoughtful.

“I suppose so…” he trailed off, making Grell’s chest sting a little at the reaction. Was he doubting her?

Unlike the others, Undertaker hadn’t outright called her a man upon her arrival – in fact, he had been using feminine pet names to refer to her the whole time. While she was thankful for that, the way he reacted made her wonder if he still viewed her as male. Grell felt that she had developed a pretty thick skin against all the misgendering she faced from day to day, but the thought of that coming up even at a time where she was seeking comfort seemed… unbearable.

“Well then, my lady…” the Undertaker began, snapping Grell back to reality as she felt a palpable flutter in her chest. The way he kept referring to her seemed genuine, making her feel relieved that she would not have to suffer any more misgendering that evening. Or at least, she hoped she wouldn’t.

The man held out an urn of cookies to the redhead, prompting Grell to reluctantly take one before he continued:

“I was thinking we should change you out of those clothes, you’ll never get warm if you’re sopping-”

“Absolutely not!” Grell interjected, putting aside the biscuit and earning a bemused grin from the elder.

“Oh?”

Grell bared her teeth as she replied pointedly:

“I am not about to strip down in front of you in this dingy shop! That’s absurd! Why I….” Grell trailed off again as the elder held up what looked to be a flowing white gown, a broad grin pasted across his face. Grell looked on in dismay, knowing exactly how he had acquired the clothing item.

“I am not wearing clothes meant for corpses!” she declared, a slight growl to her voice. She would rather sit in her cold and wet garments than even think about putting on funeral garb. Not to mention, the bloody thing was white! She would take nothing less than a vibrant red if she was going to be in another’s company.

The elder let out a giggle and gently folded the gown over his arm, putting it off to the side as he mused:

“You’re proving to be no fun, miss”

Grell felt her annoyance subside slightly with how the elder continued to refer to her. The redhead rather enjoyed not having to constantly debate whether she should correct someone on her pronouns, after all – such corrections were not always heeded… nor welcomed.

She chewed her lip slightly as she struggled to retort, her lips parting before she was cut off again – the elder asking:

“By the way, you mentioned earlier that you seldom catch me outside my shop… I seem to recall that you don’t often come this way as well. Was there a particular occasion today?”

Grell felt herself come to a halt at his question. Taking a breath, she decided that maybe now was the time to come clean. Her fingers wound into her hair fretfully as she began her answer, Grell thinking about her next words carefully.

“Well… you see I-”

She halted when he took hold of her foot.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” she exclaimed, kicking out her leg at the Undertaker. The man swiftly ducked – just in time for Grell to feel pain shoot through her ankle. She was left gasping.

The elder gave a sympathetic smile as he supported her heel, bringing her leg back down. With his other hand he began to lightly toy with the redhead’s shoelaces, the man responding promptly:

“My apologies, I was thinking we should treat your ankle. I forgot it’s only proper to ask a lady before touching her, especially when dealing with such a sensitive area…”

The man lifted his head slightly towards Grell as he patiently waited for her response, a look of gentleness set on his face. The redhead continued to hiss as the pain slowly subsided. She was silently thankful that Undertaker was supporting her heel, Grell noticing that it helped the discomfort ease quicker. Finally, she calmed down - looking off to the side in shame of how she reacted. She ran a hand through her wet hair, pushing it over her shoulder in an attempt to be casual as she assented:

“I’m sorry too, please… go ahead…”

Undertaker sent a kind smirk her way before he unlaced her shoe - sending relief flooding through Grell. She had nearly forgotten how sore her feet had been prior to the accident. He then removed her sock – making Grell tense a bit. The intimacy of the position as well as the fact that she was now a bit exposed did not escape her. She pushed any thoughts of that from her mind as the man continued to work, reminding herself that the situation was completely non-sensual. Not only had the man probably done this a million times, but he was clearly just trying to treat her. He wouldn’t be getting any enjoyment from this, surely.

Undertaker kept her heel resting in his palm as his other hand fished around on the nearby tray for bandages – the elder beginning to bind her ankle tightly. Grell winced a bit at first, but was pleasantly surprised at how gentle and cautious the man was as he treated her. She supposed that his occupation had something to do with how practiced his movements were – yet there seemed to be something else to it. Reapers weren’t naturally that gentle.

Lowering her foot finally, the elder gave Grell a satisfied grin – stating from his spot below her:

“There, that should be much better. Now if we can just keep you off of it, I think that-”

Grell felt her heart sink as a realization dawned on her. She wasn’t going to be able to return home that night, not in her current state. She looked to Undertaker fretfully - the man meeting her gaze and frowning himself.

“What is it?”

Grell brought her fingers together, fiddling with them a moment before she came to terms with what she was needed to ask. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself mentally.

She was going to be amongst dead people for the night.

“Well you see, my place is quite far from here... and with me being as I am right now, I think that-”

The elder seemed to catch on quickly as he rose to stand above Grell – practically hovering over her with his toothy smile.

“Ah, a sleepover. How lovely. It’s been so long since I’ve had extended company! Now to find a coffin just your size…” the Undertaker prattled-on giddily, making Grell cringe internally at the thought.

“Surely you must have a bed somewhere… I mean… don’t you sleep in one?” Grell ventured, soon remembering the very first time she met the Undertaker. Oh, right. This lunatic slept in his very own coffin.

Undertaker grinned and tsked, raising a finger playfully as he mused:

“Only the best accommodations for my guests”

Grell could barely stop herself from burying her face in her hands out of pure distress. Of course - for him, coffins were the superior option. This was going to be a nightmare. No… this entire day had already been a nightmare, and this was just the finishing blow. Losing control of herself, Grell suddenly began to cry.

The elder seemed taken aback as he quickly moved beside Grell on the coffin, cupping her face in his hands as she sobbed. Grell’s whole body shook with cold and tears as she completely broke down - the redhead feeling at once relieved that the person she was crying beside was responding to her so attentively. She gripped the blanket on her shoulders tightly as she continued to let the tears flow - Grell beginning to shake less and less until, finally, she had cried herself out. Undertaker brushed away the few remaining tears with his thumbs as they rolled down her cheeks – the elder asking in a hushed tone:

“Are you alright, love?”

Grell felt secure within his grasp - her chest warm with relief at having let everything out. She nodded, prompting Undertaker to take his hands back and look at her, frowning regretfully.

“I don’t mean to upset you dear; I didn’t think-”

Grell shook her head and sniffed, stopping the elder in his tracks as she offered a strained grin.

“I-I’m ok. I… I was having such an awful day that I… I didn’t want to be alone tonight. I couldn’t think of anyone else to come to that w-would want me around… so… I came here... or I t-tried to and… and-”

She felt sobs rising up in her chest again, her hands rising to wipe at her face harshly. Suddenly, she felt the elder pull her into his chest – wrapping his arms around her firmly in a hug. Grell’s eyes widened slightly before she completely relaxed into his touch.

Undertaker was silent as he held her, feeling badly about adding to her stress with his jokes. He had been having so much fun teasing her that he hadn’t considered she might be in such a tender emotional state. She was just… so fun to have around. A lot of his guests were, but she was a special case. The elder truly didn’t have anywhere else for her to sleep in the shop, but that didn’t mean he had to tell her in such a manner. He knew he had gotten carried away.

Undertaker quietly and privately felt a bit of warmth rise in his chest at her words. Had she really thought of him as a potential source comfort? Maybe she was desperate, but he didn’t mind. He loved the company, especially the lively kind she brought to the shop.

Fighting the silence by himself all the time was so tiring.

“You are always welcome here darling” the elder stated earnestly, making Grell choke up even more – the redhead pressing her head under his chin. There had always been a chemistry between them, especially ever since Grell had found out Undertaker’s identity as a grim reaper. And now, that chemistry was even more palpable - the elder serving as a warm and safe place for the redhead in that moment.

The silver-haired man continued stroking Grell’s hair, clearly doing so without any expectations or reservations on behalf of the redhead. As the moments passed, Grell felt herself becoming more and more restless - until finally her lips parted.

She couldn’t keep it all to herself anymore.

Without any warning, she began murmuring the events of the day into the elder’s chest – recounting bit by bit all of the horrid events she had dealt with. Once she got through those, she continued explaining everything else that had been bothering her. She didn’t care if the elder understood, rather, she just hoped that he would continue to listen.

The man stayed silent as he held her, listening intently while continuing to stroke her damp, silk-like hair. Undertaker had suspected that Grell faced a lot of disrespect back at the dispatch – it was only natural that someone not fitting the expectations of such an institution would. He had remembered his experience as a reaper, after all. However, he had never faced what she had faced – nor could he imagine ever doing so.

What he additionally hadn’t considered was the fact that she faced even more scorn outside of the reaper headquarters. Although she mentioned the support that Ronald Knox and Madam Red provided her – Undertaker couldn’t help but be flabbergasted by the majority of her experiences.

As she continued recounting everything, the elder found himself growing more and more upset on her behalf. How could he possibly be one of the few people who saw and enjoyed her vivacious personality? It was true that everyone had their preferences, and that Grell was something of a spitfire – but to have so many show contempt for her was astonishing.

What’s more, how could he be one of the few that she felt she could come to? They didn’t know each other very well at all, and they both knew it. The very fact that she had decided to approach him at all that evening spoke volumes as to the amount of reliable people in her life. While the fact stood that she had lessened that pool by her own hand in one instance (in the case of Madame Red, to be exact), it was beside the point right now.

What dismayed Undertaker most of all about the situation was the fact that he was apparently one of the few people who respected Grell’s wishes and recognized her identity. He had experienced so many different genders throughout the centuries that Grell was not a new phenomenon to him at all. Surely there were others who knew of the wide spectrum of human identity that existed throughout history, so why was there so little respect being shown?

He bit his inner cheek.

Grell felt herself calming and slowly raised her head, looking into Undertaker’s face. As usual, he had his bangs hanging down, obscuring his expression – though Grell could see his jaw was clearly tensed. Gently, she raised her hand to brush his locks out of the way – looking into his eyes for the first time in what felt like ages. His gaze made her feel like melting, the man conveying nothing but tenderness towards her. She felt his sympathy coming through in just his expression. Without thinking, she pressed her lips to his cheek, prompting him to gently wind his arms around her waist.

It felt natural, for both participants – yet something still hung heavy over both their heads.

Undertaker let a chuckle slip loose, an unwanted reflex in that moment.

“You shouldn’t waste kisses on an old man like me, sweet one…” the man chided gently, breaking the silence between them. He both wholly believed and regretted his statement immediately. His hand cupped Grell’s face as their eyes met again, his touches intimate despite his words. Feeling irked and more than a little hurt at his response, the redhead gripped his silver bangs between her fingers – tugging upwards so that the elder’s head tilted towards the ceiling. The Undertaker let out a deep groan in response.

“Hush those words, if you don’t want me just say so” she hissed, not taking the excuse. If he, like all the others, didn’t want her affection - she was not going to let him try and pass it off as an “it’s not you its me” scenario. To her surprise the elder let another giggle bubble up within his chest, his hands rising in order to completely capture Grell’s face. She released his hair in alarm, regretting handling him so roughly out of impulse. Was he mad at her? She understood if he was…

Before she could properly react, the Undertaker had pressed a firm kiss to her lips, his presence gentle yet eager. The two held the kiss for what felt like minutes, the retired reaper finally parting with a broad grin – his pallid face tinged with color.

The feeling of closeness came rushing back to the both of them.

“You need to give yourself more credit my dear. A lovely young lady like yourself shouldn’t assume the worst” Undertaker stated, his voice carrying nothing but sincerity.

That cinched it, Grell was in tears again – the redhead pulling the elder reaper into her arms and crushing his face into her chest. Undertaker’s eyes widened as she pressed him against her shuddering ribs, his hands naturally moving to her hips as she held him.

“You’ve no idea how I’ve longed to hear something like that from someone - anyone…” Grell sobbed, burying her face into the top of Undertaker’s silken head. The elder gently patted her back with one hand and allowed her to cry it out, feeling a bit of relief once she finally released him. It wasn’t long, though, before her lips were against his own again - her sharp teeth biting into him slightly. In a show of strength, Grell pushed the Undertaker down so he was sprawled across the coffin - her slight body pinning his as she wiped away her tears hastily. She wanted him in a position where he couldn’t back away from her.

The elder merely stared up at her in response, his lithe chest rising and falling with hers as they remained in mutual silence. He then raised his hand to fully slick back his bangs, his marred face completely exposed. He wanted to be able to face Grell completely – his breast constricting slightly with anticipation and anxiety. He wasn’t used to being this vulnerable.

Grell sniffed and finally calmed herself, looking down at the elder she had pinned. The fact that he didn’t put up any resistance meant volumes to her. Her long locks fell over both of them as she bent forward, the blanket having slipped off her shoulders and pooled behind her. Her green orbs took in the beautiful sight before her, a slight shiver running through Grell with cold and excitement. She felt secure in that position to ask what she wanted; he couldn’t play any games while they were face-to-face like this.

“Hey, could I be a little selfish?” she asked gently, trying to ease the anxiety that buzzed about them. A warm smile met her softened eyes as she gazed down at the Undertaker. The man returned her smile, feeling a bit more at ease. His hands found her waist as she sat atop him.

“Of course, m’dear. What would you like?” he asked openly, earning a somewhat relieved look from Grell. She had always appreciated how accepting he’d seemed. She suddenly bowed forward and pressed herself against him fully, laying her head on his chest. Immediately, the man relaxed beneath her - prompting Grell to relax as well.

“Could we just… stay like this for a little while?” She requested, feeling the man’s hands slide up her body until they reached her hair – playing with her long locks carefully.

“Of course, I would love that” Undertaker replied earnestly, making Grell’s mind almost melt from bliss. Although it had been a tumultuous journey, Grell couldn’t help but feel that the scenario they had reached together was better than she could have imagined. She knew she was right to come here after all.

She nuzzled further into his chest and listened to the sounds of his body – amazed at how close a reaper’s physiology was to their human counterparts. She supposed it wasn’t all that strange, they had all once been human after all.

She tried faintly to remember back to her life as a human. Had she had a rough life? She must have if she had decided that dying was the only option. Or maybe not… who could really say? Maybe she had been all alone in her final moments, just as she had been earlier that evening. Maybe she had lacked a wonderful and warm person in her life - someone who was able to see her through all the hard times she had faced. Maybe, or maybe not. She pondered all of this silently, glad that at least she had all those things right now – in that moment.

She pressed herself into the elder more, wanting to stay like that forever. She had needed this, and now she finally had it. Her body had other plans though.

Her stomach growled loudly – reminding her that she hadn’t even taken a bite of the funeral biscuit she had been given. Flushing slightly, she lifted her head as the elder laughed – his chest bouncing her head a slight bit.

“I think we ought to take care of that” Undertaker mused, earning a shy grin from Grell as she sat up – allowing the elder to slip out from beneath her. The elder smoothed a hand through her hair reassuringly, remarking that he was going to fetch some more hot tea for the both of them. Grell thanked him quietly and remained where she was – her ankle still throbbing in pain. She supposed there were worst places to be trapped for the night.

Filling herself up on biscuits and tea, Grell found both items to be surprisingly good as she wolfed them down. The elder smiled and watched her from a nearby perch, drinking his own beaker of tea alongside a few biscuits. He was glad that she seemed to be enjoying herself.

Grell, being the lover of food that she was, was surprised at how little the man took for himself - especially with how tasty the treats were. She pushed the thought from her mind however, simply glad that she wasn’t dining alone that evening – even if what she was eating couldn’t exactly be called a meal.

Finishing off her tea, she put her beaker to the side and looked to the elder reaper - offering a smile. She felt much warmer now, her clothes still damp – but much less cold.

“That was delicious Undertaker… Thank you… I feel much better now” Grell remarked. And she had meant it, on every conceivable level.

“I’m glad to hear that miss, I apologize that I am not much of a cook” the elder offered apologetically, being more of a baker than anything. Grell shook her head dismissively.

“No no, it was delicious! I just hope I’m not eating you out of house and home…” she grimaced. The elder laughed and shook his head, his silken tresses shifting with the action.

“It’s quite fine my dear, it’s nice to have someone to talk to and eat with like this”

Grell smiled warmly, completely sharing the sentiment. Suddenly, a yawn overcame her - prompting the redhead to shield her mouth as her sharp teeth caught the light.

“It seems someone is ready for bed” the elder offered, making Grell wince a bit as she looked about the shop.

“Do I _have_ to sleep in a coffin?” She asked regretfully, earning a reassuring smile from the man across from her.

“You won’t be alone love, come along” Undertaker chided, getting up and helping Grell off her seat. The redhead flushed as he led her over to an enclosed area, providing her with some privacy so that she could change into the gown from earlier. Though she wasn’t happy about it - Grell carefully changed into the garment. As she did, the redhead was thankful that the elder had helped her get her other shoe off before she had begun the process.

Stripping off her clothes, Grell shivered briefly before switching to the warm and dry replacement – immediately feeling relief after doing so. As soon as she called for Undertaker, he was there to whisk her off her feet – the elder picking her up and bringing her to a wide coffin that she recognized as his own. She felt like flailing in protest, but knew that would be a bad idea with how high she was off the ground. 

“Easy, easy” the elder chided, lowering Grell into the coffin (which he had laid flat for the night) – before he crawled in himself. As the two lay together in the confined space, their long locks spilled over the sides of the casket – mixing beautifully in the dimness of the night.

Grell pressed into the Undertaker more, thinking silently about how she never imagined she would spend the night this close to someone else… at least, not without having done something else first. As she gently twirled the elder’s braid around her finger, she realized she didn’t mind that possibility at all. However, that night she felt comfortable with just this – and she had a feeling that the Undertaker was content with the situation as well. It felt nice not to have that kind of expectation placed on her.

Without realizing it, Grell began nodding off. The feeling of being held so close to Undertaker alongside his scent and warmth was lulling her into a blissful state of near-sleep.

“Sweet dreams, my dear” came the gentle voice of the Undertaker, the man clearly noticing her current state. Grell smiled and rested her hand on the man’s chest, their limbs and hair entangling beautifully in the cramped-if-not-comfortable space.

“Sweet dreams…” she repeated. Just as she was ready to retire, a stray thought tugged at her mind - bringing Grell back to wakefulness.

“Undertaker?” She gently called, earning a hummed response from the elder.

“Mm?”

Grell bit her lip, wondering how to voice what she was feeling.

“Could you tell me… that is - are you… just putting up with me?”

Despite everything that had happened that night, all the kindness extended to her - Grell couldn’t help but still feel those nagging fears at the back of her mind. The elder shifted a bit beneath her before Grell felt a kiss being pressed to the crown of her head – Undertaker’s voice coming out in a low hum:

“I want you here, Grell. There’s no one else that I’d rather be with tonight… you gave me much-needed company this evening. In truth… I didn’t want to be alone either. So, thank you”

The elder was completely honest as he spoke, hoping to convey to the redhead just how much she was wanted. Grell felt her chest flutter, her body squirming happily as she pushed more into her partner.

“Then… I can come back? I won’t be a bother?” she pressed, wanting more than anything just to know that this wasn’t a one-time thing – that she wasn’t just a convenience. She wanted to keep coming back, to watch this relationship bloom organically from this point on. The elder gave a tired laugh, his hand coming to rest on top of Grell’s as he gave it a squeeze.

“If you’d wish to keep seeing a dreary old man like me, I would consider myself to be the luckiest man in the world.”

Grell couldn’t help her smile. Those were the words she needed to hear.

Feeling her chest spread with warmth, Grell felt like pressing her luck. She took a deep breath.

“You won’t feel ashamed being seen with me? That is… do you want to try and… see where this goes?”

Grell didn’t expect a love confession – she knew there was something between them. However, she also knew that that something needed nurturing, not to mention time to bloom into something substantial. They were both flawed individuals, and their relationship would take work – especially if that night served as any indication.

Undertaker lifted his head slightly, making Grell tense a bit before he answered:

“I do, my love… I really do.”

There it was, an honest and straightforward answer - no added remarks about it being up to her, nor an additional self-deprecating remark. Grell couldn’t contain her happiness as she finally settled in, her voice carrying in the empty shop as she stated:

“Then it’s a date!”

Undertaker woke early the next morning, dizzy with the thoughts that rang through his head. He had been having the dream again, no… rather, he had been having the _nightmare_ again. There were flames. He was rushing through the manor in search of remains, survivors, anything. Finally, he realized that there was nothing left of the Phantomhives.

Undertaker felt himself choking up, uninhibited tears streaming down his face. Just like the night before, he was overcome with emotion – having been on a walk to clear his mind when he had run into Grell. He tried raising his arm to wipe at his tears when he remembered that the sleeping redhead was still on his chest. He felt a calmness settle over his heart – though it didn’t exactly chase away the grief. Nothing could do that. People just need to grieve.

Undertaker was nevertheless grateful that Grell was there, though he wished selfishly that she could just wake up already. He had been haunted by grief and loneliness for so long that having someone like her to interrupt the silence was a godsent. He pondered whether desperation was what had led him to accept Grell into his shop the day before – but he knew better than that. No, there was more to his decision than that.

The redhead had always been so… vibrant. Her presence filled whatever room she was in, giving Undertaker the feeling that he was surrounded by a warm energy. She made him feel wanted, like a spark of life had returned to his dreary existence. Every time they had interacted, he felt almost young again – as if his years of hardship had been washed away for the briefest of moments. Almost.

The Undertaker was acutely aware of how different she was from him, different… yet compatible. She was her own person, and he loved seeing how she went about carving her own path. It reminded him a little of himself, yet she went about life in a manner completely dissimilar from how he had lived. If you call that living, that is.

Grell telling him of her hardships the day before had been a wakeup call – the elder finally understanding the subtle (and not-so-subtle) signs that she expected harsh treatment from those around her. Undertaker wanted to hold her, to feed her, to touch her, to give her all the love and respect she deserved and more - until she was spoiled beyond belief. He wanted to make up for all the time she had spent hurting until now.

Yet Undertaker knew that they needed time to sort themselves out - to grow their relationship and learn how they were together, and apart. They were both flawed, after all. He was looking forward to that - yet he also wanted to do so much more. He had felt the pull between them ever since they first properly interacted, and he sensed that she felt the same. But he was willing to be patient, he enjoyed the little moments life had to offer after all. Everything always went by too fast for a centuries-old being.

The elder felt the grief of the years overcoming him again, stronger than ever now. The losses he had suffered were unimaginable; he was drowning in them.

As tears continued to stream, Undertaker felt Grell begin to stir. A part of him was thankful she was there, while another part wondered if he was about to let her see something she shouldn’t. His grief was incredibly personal – yet he wanted comfort. He watched as she finally lifted her head, her bleary eyes falling on him. He wasn’t sure if she could even see him without her glasses, a reaper’s eyes being extremely nearsighted. However, he soon got his answer as Grell cleared her throat tiredly and asked huskily:

“What’s wrong dear?”

Undertaker couldn’t help but smile somewhat naturally as he watched her sit up, following her so that he could press his face in her shoulder – his hands gripping at the gown he had given her. She looked beautiful in it, her red hair clashing with the stark white. He could barely hold himself back as the tears continued, the elder asking in a pained whisper:

“I’m sorry, but… just for a moment… could you stay with me?”

He had always prided himself on being able to hide his tears, but for now he felt okay being vulnerable in front of someone else.

The redhead brought her arms up and tangled her fingers in his silver locks, kissing his head as he continued silently crying. It was clear that they both had their issues, yet now they also had each other. They held one another for a long time – eventually needing to collect themselves and part for their respective workplaces. Grell didn’t know what had set off the Undertaker, but the man promised her that he would tell her someday soon – and she believed him. Even as the two prepared to part - they knew that they had a safe place to come back to, not to mention a brand-new relationship to work at each and every day.

They had each other, no matter how hard things became – and that was all either reaper had asked for.


End file.
